Ginger Christmas III
by JunoInferno
Summary: The Doctor and his future self join forces to organize a primary school Christmas pageant. How hard can it be? Part of the Regarding Mrs Smith ficverse, featuring 10 & 11.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: I do not own Doctor Who. Now, to set up, this is part of the Regarding Mrs Smith universe and inspired by the 50th Anniversary Special. I am intending to do my take for this universe on the 50th, but I think since I work in retail it's going to have to wait until after the new year with the other stories I have going on if you want a Christmas special that's done around Christmas. So, just assume some version of that happened and it was awesome. Another note, as I understand it there is a film called Nativity 2 with David Tennant and largely the same premise in it. That film is unavailable in the US so I've seen about five minutes of it on YouTube and while that slightly inspired the premise, I have no idea what happens in it so if I happen upon something else similar I don't own it and it was a coincidence. Thank you so much and happy reading!

* * *

Christmas.

The very word struck terror in the Doctor's hearts.

Mind you, it didn't used to. Back before he married Donna, it had just been an odd Earth festival that he usually had to save. Then he had to start spending them in order. The first year, it had been just Donna... and the Taluvians. The next year, it had been just Donna and Zara and the time-traveling reindeer. The next year it was Donna and Zara and Chloe, the trip to Harrod's, the ice skating in Winter Wonderland, taking them to the pantomime, shopping and then he had to save the entire city from some snowmen that already seemed to know him, which he supposed was an issue for another day. The next year it had been all that and saving Earth from some evil pixie dust. The previous year it had been all the usual errands and Geoffrey and meeting Alex and the evil toy corporation and saving the Earth and restoring the faith of children in Father Christmas.

It was Fireworks Night. Donna had gotten tickets to three separate Christmas pantos and none to see Richard II and the Doctor had managed to save Parliament from a risen from the dead Guy Fawkes. Donna thought this was as good a time as any to begin listing the Christmas chores for the Doctor as they laid in bed.

Her belly was a rather pleasing bump now and the Doctor watched her rub lotion onto it.

"Do you think we should see Father Christmas at Harrod's again?," asked Donna. "I know we've done it every year, but there's a train at Selfridge's and I wonder if Geoffrey wouldn't have more fun at that."

This was exhausting the Doctor already.

"I thought it might be nice to get a portrait of the children this year," said Donna. "I know it's a bit cheesy, but it could be my mum's present. She always complains there aren't enough 'normal' pictures of them to show her friends."

"Whatever you think, Donna."

"She wants to have her party here this year."

"Here?," asked the Doctor.

"Yeah, she says our house is bigger, of course, she doesn't seem to care about all the work it is hosting a party in a house with three small children. Or she's expecting me to say no so she can hold it over my head. Either way, I've already agreed."

"Right..." said the Doctor, the memory of Geoffrey's recent first birthday party looming large in his mind.

"Oh, I'm also in charge of the Christmas party for Chloe's nursery class."

"What?," asked the Doctor.

"And Geoffrey's playgroup."

"Donna..."

"I know, I know, but we've got to get to know some of the other parents otherwise they'll never let their children come over to play."

"Other children?"

Donna turned and looked at him. "Remember?"

The Doctor nodded. "Right, yes, the whole friends thing."

"That reminds me, the Parents' Council meeting at Zara's school is tomorrow and it conflicts with playgroup so I need you to go."

"The Parents' Council?," asked the Doctor.

"Yes, you only have to do one thing," said Donna.

"Which is what?"

"There's a posh bitch called Poppy Taylor-Thomas in charge. She's been running the school. I think she might have had her youngest just to make sure she didn't lose power. Anyway, she'll want volunteers for the Christmas pageant. Just say we're too busy and try to get on the party committee for the reception classes."

"The Christmas pageant?"

"Yeah, apparently it's a big do, the whole school is in it, we just need to steer clear of it."

"Why?"

"Doctor, trust me, you do not want to be stuck working for this woman on the Christmas pageant."

* * *

The next day the Doctor made his way to Zara's school in time for the Parents' Council meeting. It was a nice place with Christmas crafts and artwork lining the halls. Zara had been very happy coming here in between their travels and that was all that mattered to the Doctor as opposed to the litany of reasons Donna gave the Doctor when he protested his children going off to spend the day with well-intentioned strangers.

Which he only did once a week now.

"You're new here."

The Doctor turned to see a tall woman, actually his height with a friendly face. She seemed cheerful.

"Yes, hello, I'm the Doctor..." He took her hand and corrected himself. "John Smith. I'm Zara's dad. Blimey, you have a grip."

"Oh, Kate Hepworth. Alistair's mum. He and Zara are in the same class."

"Oh, right," said the Doctor.

"Donna couldn't make it?"

"No, playgroup conflict."

"That's too bad," said Kate. "Donna's usually the only part of these blasted meetings that's any fun. Well, and the biscuits."

"Ooh! Biscuits!," said the Doctor, noting the refreshments table.

Kate led him to a seat.

"So, you're not big on these meetings?," he asked.

"Well, to tell you the truth, I wouldn't mind pitching in, but Poppy's running a work camp, not a council. Rumor is, she actually made the Head Teacher cry last year."

"Blimey," said the Doctor.

"Someone really should stop her," mused Kate.

"Alright, let's begin," a voice rang out.

The Doctor turned. A woman with dyed blonde hair sat at the head of a table and banged a gavel.

"She has a gavel," the Doctor commented.

"That's the least of it," Kate whispered.

"I'm Poppy Taylor-Thomas, president. Now, I'm sure we all remember at our last meeting the disappointment I expressed that the dining hall has not been using organic eggs..."

"Organic eggs?," the Doctor whispered to Kate.

She nodded. "Oh, Poppy wants everything organic. Except her hair and probably her backside."

They listened to some more on the organic eggs debate, then a report on how the school auction was coming along.

"Now, the Christmas pageant," said Poppy. "We all know it's coming and that I'm the only one who can run it..."

"Is that true?," the Doctor asked.

A hush fell over the room.

"I'm sorry?"

The Doctor stood. "Oh, sorry, I haven't introduced myself. John Smith. I'm Zara's dad."

Poppy looked him up and down. "Donna's husband?"

"Yes, that's the one. Anyway, I was just thinking, how do we know you're the only one who can run it? As I understand it, you've never let anyone else run it. How hard can it be?"

"Don't say that," Kate whispered.

"How hard can it be?," Poppy asked back. "I suppose you would like to run it."

"Well, I could..."

"I've been president of this council for ten years-"

"Well, yes, we've all been president of a council," said the Doctor. "Sometimes as president, you have to step down and give someone else a chance. Otherwise you're not a president, you're a tyrant."

"You can't run the pageant. Your girl's in reception."

"Yes, but luckily, I've graduated reception," said the Doctor.

"Let's put it to a vote," said Poppy.

"Yes, let's vote," said the Doctor. "And mind you, a vote for Poppy is a vote to let her rule you all the days of your lives... or something."

"All in favor that I run the pageant, raise your hands..."

A few of Poppy's flunkies raised their hands.

"All for John Smith," Poppy said stiffly.

At that moment, the Doctor realized he might have made a mistake.

Then the hands went up. Almost all of them.

Oh, yes, this was a mistake.

"Well, then, meet your new director, John Smith," Poppy said smugly.

* * *

Kate walked with the Doctor as they went to reception. Everyone had congratulated the Doctor and his victory and she was no exception.

"This is all terribly exciting," said Kate. "No one has ever stood up to Poppy like that before. You're my hero."

"Christmas pageant, how bad could it be?," asked the Doctor.

"Right," said Kate.

"I mean, we just need the nativity set up, papier-mache animal costumes, a little girl who sings flawlessly and at the end the Prime Minister appears."

Kate laughed. "Oh, you're a funny one."

"In what way?"

"Well, that Love Actually reference you just made."

The Doctor's face dropped. "You mean they're not all like that?"

"No." Kate paused. "John, you have seen a Christmas pageant, haven't you?"

"No."

"Well, haven't you been in one?," asked Kate. "I mean, everyone's been in one."

"They didn't have them where I went to school."

"Where was that?"

"Gallifrey."

"Is that in Ireland?"

"I wish it was sometimes."

"Well," said Kate, "look on the bright side, you don't have to get the Prime Minister."

"Bright side? That was the one thing I was certain I could do!"

The classroom door opened. The children ran out and Zara bounded up to the Doctor.

"Hi, Daddy!"

"Hello, my Zara," he said, scooping her up and giving her a kiss. "Good news."

"What?"

"I'm in charge of the school Christmas pageant."

"What?," asked Zara looking like her mother.

"Here is my mobile number, John," said Kate handing the Doctor a piece of paper. "We can meet up for tea and chat after the school run tomorrow if you want."

"Oh, brilliant," said the Doctor.

Kate and her boy left.

"Daddy, do you know how to make a Christmas pageant?"

"Zara, I'm the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord. I'm nine hundred and ten years old. I'm the Oncoming Storm, I- I, no, no, I don't really have any idea. Do you?"

"I'm in reception."

"That was the same sorry excuse you had when I asked you to help me stop that asteroid."

* * *

The news did not go over as well with Donna as the Doctor might have hoped. The children had gone to sleep, Donna was working on the Christmas cards and the Doctor casually mentioned that he was the new creative director for the Christmas Pageant.

"You did what?!," she screeched.

"I am running the school Christmas pageant," said the Doctor. "Well, they begged me, really..."

"What did I say? What did I tell you not to do?"

"Yes, I know, but things happen and I was caught up in the heat of the moment..."

Donna shook her head. "You have to tell them you can't. Say you're dying. Say I'm dying. Say everyone's dying."

"Donna, it's just a Christmas pageant."

Donna laughed. Then she laughed again in a manner the Doctor found disconcerting, like something the Master might have done. "Just a Christmas pageant? Just a Christmas pageant?!"

"I've already got another parent on board," said the Doctor.

"Oh, God," said Donna. "One other parent! Doctor, do you have any idea how much has to be done?"

"I've put in calls to David Cameron's office."

"What does David Cameron have to do with anything?!"

"You know, the bit at the end."

"I'm going to bed," said Donna. "If I wasn't pregnant, I would be taking a bottle of wine, but that will just have to wait."

"Donna..."

"You are on your own, Time Boy."

Donna stormed upstairs as the Doctor sighed. He looked to Esther.

"What do you think?"

The dog buried her nose under her paw.

The Doctor sighed and realized he heard the TARDIS brakes grinding.

Which was strange as he was looking at the TARDIS in its spot in the sitting room.

A pebble hit the window. He walked over and looked out to see the TARDIS.

And his future.

"Out here, sand shoes!," Eleven shouted.

"Chinny," he grumbled.

The Doctor walked outside. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to help with the Christmas pageant," said Eleven.

"What?"

"And look!," he said. "Look what I've got!"

Eleven ducked back into his TARDIS and came out with a papier-mache lobster head.

"Papier-mache heads! I've finally gotten them all done! It's like a zoo in here!"

"Except you can't because we know you can't go back on your personal time line."

"Oh, come on, if that were really true, we wouldn't have a personal time line to go back on. Besides, you need my help and you know it. At the very least, I've spent four hundred more years collecting an absolutely stunning collection of children's Christmas pageant costumes."

"Just one problem."

"I suppose you're referring to the ginger goddess we're married to?"

"The one I'm married to!"

"Same thing. Come on, sand shoes. My children are all grown-up! I don't get to have this sort of fun any more. The Parents' Councils never seem to want the help of a five times great-grandfather. They still want me to buy wrapping paper which I can't quite figure out."

"Not the same thing." The Doctor shook his head. "No."

"Please say yes," said Eleven.

"And why should I?"

"Because," said Eleven, "someday you'll be the one asking."

There was that. So, because he would be the one asking and because it would at least mean two other parents would be helping him- even if they were only technically two total- he decided to relent.

"Fine," the Doctor groaned as Eleven clapped his hands together. "We're meeting Kate tomorrow for a tea after the school run."

"Excellent," said Eleven. "I'll be there."

"Oh, I bet you will, chinny..." the Doctor muttered as he went back in the house.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: I do not own Doctor Who. Thanks so much for the reads and reviews. I think some of you might have gotten almost all my references, which I always like to hear. Now, I'm not getting this story done in time for Christmas due to my retail work schedule, but I'm thinking that may not be an awful thing as tomorrow I am sure some of you will be experiencing some emotional devastation and a happy tale of ginger Christmas might help cheer you up. Also, in the tradition of imaginary Christmas casting like Daniel Craig last year, I have Miranda Hart in mind for the part of Kate because that's how imaginary casting works. So, please let me know what you think and happy reading!

* * *

It was an starry night in ancient Bethlehem when a blue box crash landed next to an inn for weary travelers.

The man with the big ears and leather jacket was certainly one of those.

"What have you done now?!," he shouted at the box. "I wanted to go back for her!"

The box hummed disapprovingly.

"I didn't mention you traveled in time!"

The box hummed even more disapprovingly.

"Oh, I don't need this," said the Doctor.

He walked off towards the inn, cutting in front of a pregnant lady and her husband as they got off a donkey.

"I need a room, please," said the Doctor.

"You're in luck, that's the last one," said the innkeeper.

"Excuse me, sir," said the husband. "My wife and I need a room-"

"Yeah, well, I just got the last one," the Doctor grumbled.

"She's very pregnant-"

"Look, we've all got problems, okay? My whole planet burned! I'm the last of my kind in the universe! I am totally and completely alone and finally, I thought I was making a friend like the old days, but then she said no and I was about to go back and mention that my spaceship also travels through time and she crash landed me here and won't move! So excuse me if I don't get all bent out of shape because you forgot to make reservations!"

The innkeeper, husband and wife stared at him without any idea what he was saying.

Then the Doctor heard laughter from behind a potted plant.

"Oi! What's so funny?!"

The man appeared and the Doctor thought he was ridiculous.

He frowned. "Why are you wearing a fez? And is that a camera phone?!"

"This is going to great in the pageant!," Eleven shouted gleefully as he ran off.

* * *

"Good morning," said the Doctor as he entered the kitchen.

Donna had her back to him. She turned around, ignoring him and gave Geoffrey his breakfast at his highchair.

"Donna?," asked the Doctor.

Donna sat down with her own plate and ignored him.

"She's mad at you," Chloe said bluntly.

"Oh, sweetheart, no," said Donna. "I'm not mad at Daddy. I just wish he would occasionally use some of his self-proclaimed genius when I ask him to."

"You're being weird," said Zara. "Why aren't you yelling?"

The Doctor took out his screwdriver and pointed it at Donna.

"Are you bleeping me?," she asked tensely, not raising her voice.

"Yes."

"Would you stop?"

"Not until you slap me."

* * *

The Doctor dropped Zara off at the school and then went to Costa Coffee. He was hoping to spot Kate first, but instead saw himself.

"I'm over here!," Eleven called, waving. "Oi! Sand shoes!"

The Doctor grimaced and walked over to the table. He sat and then had to ask the question.

"Why have you got a fez on?"

Eleven shrugged. "I wear a fez now. Fezzes are cool."

"Is that so?," asked the Doctor.

"Anyway, I was just working on the nativity scene and popped back in time to Bethlehem, picked up some sand and some straw and some sand in the straw-"

The Doctor frowned as new memories came back to him. "It was you! At the inn!"

"Yeah, saw you there," said Eleven. He brought out a video phone. "I made a movie of it. I was thinking we could use it in the pageant."

The Doctor shook his head. "No, no, we cannot use video of my ninth self-"

"Our ninth self, maybe nine point two?"

"Getting in a row with Mary and Joseph over the last room at the inn!"

"I suppose not," said Eleven. "Besides, the whole thing's in Aramaic. Who speaks Aramaic in this time period? Though I suppose we could rig the TARDIS interface-"

"No!," the Doctor said definitively.

Eleven stopped and pressed his hands together. "Are you going to shoot down all my ideas?"

"Are they all going to be stupid?"

"I'm not stupid, you're stupid."

"You're me!"

Just then, Kate arrived.

"Sorry to be a bit late. I had to pop in to the dry cleaners." She spotted Eleven. "Oh, hello, who is this?"

"I'm the Doctor..."

The Doctor scowled at him.

"Doctor Craig Owens," Eleven finished.

"Nice to meet you. Kate Hepworth. Oh, well, do you two mind if I just get a coffee?"

"No," said the Doctor.

Kate went and jumped in the queue. The Doctor looked at Eleven.

"Is Craig Owens an actual person?"

"He won't mind. Nice bloke. Not as enthusiastic a kisser as I'm used to."

Kate returned. "So, Craig, spiffing fez."

"Thank you," said Eleven.

"Which class is your child in?"

"Zara's in reception."

The Doctor glared at Eleven.

"Zara's your daughter?," asked Kate in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Kate! Your drink's ready!," called the barista.

Kate got up.

The Doctor looked pointedly at Eleven. "Zara can't be your daughter! She's my daughter!"

"Exactly! She is my daughter because she is your daughter!"

"Oh, well, why don't you go explain to the other parents how that works!"

Kate returned.

"Anyway," said the Doctor, drawing out the word, "let's start planning."

* * *

If the Doctor thought he had managed to avert disaster, that was soon put in peril when they had the first reception rehearsal some time later.

"Oh, look, you brought the baby!," Eleven cooed, picking up the carrier before the Doctor had shown any intention of putting it down. "Hello, Past Geoffrey. Do you know me? Future Daddy?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, no, no, you can't call yourself Future Daddy and you can't call him Past Geoffrey."

"Why not? I thought it would be less confusing for the children, that is, unless another future version of us shows up in which case we'll have to come up with something else..."

The door opened and the reception classes filed in. Except Zara who quickly broke ranks.

"Future Daddy!," Zara called bounding up to him.

"Past Zara!," Eleven said with delight, picking her up as he shoved the carrier back at the Doctor. "Miss me?"

Zara shrugged. "Does Mummy know you're here?"

"Which one? Past, Present, Future?"

"Any?"

"Well, no, not exactly, but I think it might be better that way," said Eleven putting her down. "Are you excited for the Christmas pageant?"

"Mummy said it was going to blow up in your face."

"That sounds like her," said Eleven. "Go run along with your mates."

Zara bounded off, waving at the Doctor. "Hi, Present Daddy!"

"I'm not Present Daddy! I'm just Daddy!"

The teacher and Kate worked at lining up the children for their song.

That's when Poppy Taylor-Thomas arrived.

"John, I have some concerns about the script."

"Right, the script..." The Doctor looked at Eleven. "I don't quite remember submitting a script."

"I took the liberty," said Eleven. "It was done by an absolutely brilliant writer."

"It says Charles Dickens," said Poppy.

"That's the one."

The Doctor turned to Eleven with his jaw dropped.

"What?," asked Eleven. "How are you going to have someone other than Charles Dickens write a Christmas pageant?"

"You don't seriously expect me to believe that Charles Dickens wrote this?," asked Poppy.

"Well, you sort of have to," said Eleven, pointing at the paper. "His name is right on there."

Poppy shook her head. "Yes, but why are there flying fish?"

"Because they can swim in the moisture in the cloud layer," said Eleven.

The Doctor went through his script.

"What's the Titanic doing in here?!," he asked.

"You ought to know," Eleven said back. "You were there."

"And what does some disappearing bride have to do with Christmas?!," asked Poppy.

"She's staying in," said the Doctor.

"The disappearing bride makes Christmas!," Eleven argued. "We wouldn't even be here without the disappearing bride!"

Poppy sighed. "Could you at least make the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future separate characters? There's still not enough parts to go around."

"Well, there is the part of the giant spider," said the Doctor, casting another glare at his future self.

"It took me months to get the papier-mache done," said Eleven.

The Doctor shot him a look.

"Fine," said Eleven. "The Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future can be played by separate actors, even though that is not how it happened at all."

"Is that everything, Poppy?," asked the Doctor.

"For now, though, I feel I should warn you, when this pageant is a disaster, it's your head the other parents will want."

Poppy walked off.

The Doctor turned to Eleven. "Charles Dickens?"

"It's fine. He thinks it's just the opium. I'll have to get him on these rewrites. Ooh! I just had a thought, what if we made the Ghost of Christmas Present like this hip character, you know, of the moment, happening, cool, who dances in to smoke and music..."

"What do you know about cool?," asked the Doctor.

"I'm sorry, did you see the bow tie?"

"Doctor..."

The Doctor looked up to see Alex Wroughton walking in.

"Oh, blimey, I nearly forgot about this guy," Eleven muttered as he took Geoffrey from the Doctor.

"Hello, Alex," said the Doctor.

"I got a note that a primary school in Ealing had requested that the Prime Minister appear at their Christmas pageant," said Alex.

"Why did you get a note?," asked the Doctor.

"Because I have asked to be notified of anything involving the words John Smith and bizarre."

"Oh," said the Doctor.

"We just need him for the bit at the end," said Eleven. "You know. Little bow, little wave."

"What are you talking about?," asked Alex. "Wait, who are you?"

"Well..."

Alex looked at the Doctor. "He's another bloody version of you, isn't he?"

"Look, did our request happen to be approved or not?," asked the Doctor. "Because frankly, there are some incongruities in our narrative and we have yet to find a little girl who can sing flawlessly and a visit from the Prime Minister might provide a welcome distraction..."

"Number Ten is still considering it," said Alex. "You could probably get Boris Johnson."

The Doctor and Eleven looked at each other and contorted their faces in disgust.

"Yeah, that's just not going to cut it..." said the Doctor.

The instrumental track for Slade's "Merry Xmas Everybody" began playing. Alex looked at them.

"What is that for?"

"The Reception Class song," said the Doctor.

"Right," said Alex. "Have either of you ever actually seen a Christmas pageant?"

"No, but soon I will have," said the Doctor.

"I have, but I can't quite remember it now," said Eleven. "Too much timeline interference."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: I do not own Doctor Who. I'm sorry I didn't update sooner, but the week took more of a toll than I thought both time wise and emotionally now that I can think about bow ties without crying again. I didn't update yesterday but I have the very good excuse of having had to drive to a theater in the nearest city playing an encore of the broadcast of the RSC Richard II starring you know who. Finally, though, retail is giving me my life back. Thank you for all the reviews. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!

* * *

Donna was known for her temper. Known for shouting. She had tried to dial that back since Zara was born and thought she had some success...

Well, she certainly yelled less after Zara was born than before.

The important thing was she never yelled at the children.

So she wondered if she perhaps had been too hard on the Doctor for the crime of running a Christmas pageant.

Then the calls began.

It had been a trickle at first. The usual "I was just wondering why Ollie needs leather trousers to play the Ghost of Christmas Present." To which Donna, of course, had no answer as no rational human being would. Another mum had called and asked exactly what made her daughter's singing "not quite as good as the little girl in Love Actually." Then 10 Downing Street had called for a copy of the script of the Christmas play.

So, she walked into the TARDIS where the Doctor was hard at work on some sort of papier-mache project. She could only identify it as some sort because she had no idea what it was, it appeared to be a blob of some sort.

"Doctor?"

"One minute, Donna, I've almost got this."

"Yes, what is that?"

"One of the first rocks that formed the Earth." He looked up at her as if this made complete sense. "See, we needed more parts for the children and I thought if we had a few of them be the individual rocks that formed the Earth, that would work and they don't have to learn any lines."

"What does that have to do with Christmas?"

"Well, I suppose you might say there would be no Christmas without the first rocks that formed the Earth. It was this or have a choir of Ood singing Christmas carols."

"Why do the children have to be dressed as Ood?"

"Oh, right, have the children dress as Ood... That would probably be easier."

Donna frowned. "Doctor, I've been getting a lot of very odd calls from the other parents."

"Well, they're just having difficulty understanding my vision..."

"Yeah, what is your vision?"

"You know, Christmas... it's all around."

Donna shook her head. "Yeah, but, I don't understand what that means."

"Well, it's a little nativity, a little Dickens, a lot of singing and some other stories..."

"Like what? Chanukah?"

"Well, not quite Chanukah, though that's an idea... You know, I was there with the Maccabees-"

"Doctor."

"Yes?"

She sighed. "Do you have this under control? Do you need me to come lend a hand?"

"No, no," the Doctor said quickly. "You are quite busy. You made yourself perfectly clear, Donna. I can do this on my own."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, I am."

"Okay," said Donna.

She went out of the TARDIS and back to the sitting room where Chloe ran towards her.

"Mummy, you have to make Zara stop!"

"Make Zara stop what, sweetheart?"

* * *

Donna went up and stood in the doorway of Zara's room. Esther laid with her head under a pillow on the floor. Donna soon understood why.

Zara had out her Hello Kitty Karaoke Machine- which Uncle Jack had thought would be a brilliant present for her fourth birthday- and was singing some version of "Merry Xmas Everybody" by Slade. What she lacked in finesse, Zara was making up for in volume.

"So here it is, Merry Christmas! Everybody's having fun! Look to the future now! It's only just begun!," she screamed. Zara stopped and saw Donna. "Yes, Mummy?"

"Yes, sweetheart, what are you doing?"

"I'm practicing the reception class song for the Christmas pageant. Future Daddy said if I sang really loud I could be up front."

Donna paused. "Sorry, Future Daddy?"

"I meant Present Daddy."

"Right," said Donna. "Would you like to take a break and have a snack?"

"No."

Donna nodded. This was one of the perils of having Time Babies. When they found something they liked doing, they never wanted to stop. "Right, well, I'm going to take Esther out for a walk and possibly Chloe and Geoffrey."

"Okay."

"Daddy's in the TARDIS," said Donna. She motioned at the terrier. "Come on, girl."

The dog gratefully got up and walked into the hall. Donna shut the door as Zara's attempts at singing resumed.

Present Daddy. Future Daddy. That might explain a few things.

* * *

"Not that I don't think it's a spiffing idea," said Kate, turning to Eleven, "but why are all the Year Four children wearing fezzes?"

"Fezzes are cool," Eleven replied as the Year Four teachers lined up their pupils. He looked at Kate. "What do you think of the pageant so far?"

"Well, it is a bit unusual," said Kate. "Though to be a bit blunt, I've seen the same old Christmas play about a hundred times. I'm certain everyone will be delighted to have things be a bit different."

He heard a throat clear. Eleven turned to see Donna, balancing Geoffrey on one hip and holding Chloe's hand.

"Oh, hello, Donna," said Kate. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Kate. And you?"

"Oh, you know, the same old. I was wondering when you were going to make it to one of the rehearsals. Craig and your husband have been doing a wonderful job."

"Have they?," Donna asked, looking at Eleven. "Have you, Craig?"

"Um, yes, well..."

"Perhaps we could talk over here for a bit, Craig," Donna said pointedly.

"Right," said Eleven. He handed Kate a clipboard. "Kate, you run things here."

Eleven followed Donna into the hall.

"Future Daddy!," said Chloe.

"Yes, hello, Past Chloe," said Eleven, scooping her up and planting a kiss on her forehead. "Did you miss me?"

"I don't know you yet."

"Very good, Chloe. That was a trick question."

"What's going on?," asked Donna.

"What's going on?"

"Yes, what is going on? Is the universe about to explode? Have you found the Time Lords and they want to see a Christmas pageant first thing? Are you doing this to distract the Daleks? What is it?!"

"How would a Christmas pageant distract the Daleks?"

"How should I know? You're the one in charge of the mad ideas!"

"Am I?"

"Yes!"

Eleven sighed. "Look, I just want to help with the Christmas pageant. I don't get to do this anymore."

Donna rolled her eyes. "You like doing this sort of thing?"

"Of course I do. Believe me, Donna, these are the best times with you and the children thinking you're going to go mad, wondering when you'll get through it all and then finally, someday, you do get through it all and you wish you could make it all start again."

"Oh, but what about new planets and new adventures and new companions?"

"Well," said Eleven, "that's not bad, but this is the best fun."

"Don't be sad, Future Daddy," said Chloe.

"I'm not sad, Past Chloe. What makes you think I'm sad?"

"Your eyes," said Donna.

Eleven didn't answer. He just leaned forward and kissed Donna on the cheek.

"Uh, present me, that is my past self is down the hall helping with the Year Threes if you want to talk to him."

"Okay," said Donna.

Eleven put Chloe down.

"Chloe, do you want to keep Future Daddy company?," asked Donna.

Eleven beamed. "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, what's the harm, really?" She took Geoffrey's nappy bag off her shoulder and hung it over Eleven's. "In fact, I have a bit of Christmas shopping to do that might be a bit easier without the children, if you catch my meaning."

"I don't," said Eleven.

Donna smiled and handed him the baby. "You just keep them for a bit and then send them home with well... you. You know which one. There's-"

"Two bottles for Geoffrey, two cartons of apple juice, a packet of yogurt melts and two bananas in the nappy bag. I remember."

"Okay," said Donna. "I'll see you later, then."

"I see what you did there."

* * *

Donna walked down the hall and easily found the room her Doctor, well, her current Doctor was in. She poked her head in to see the Doctor trying to direct a little boy and a little girl in a ginger wig.

"Mister-"

"Doctor-"

"Doctor Smith, we usually frown on encouraging the pupils to slap one another," said the teacher.

Donna cleared her throat again. The Doctor looked up.

"Sorry, I'll just be a moment. Miss Hornsby, perhaps you can take this one," said the Doctor.

Miss Hornsby sighed. "Right, let's start from 'When I went to my fitting-'"

The Doctor pushed Donna out quickly and shut the door. "Right, I can explain-"

"Is this fun for you?"

"Is what?"

"This, this madness?"

The Doctor paused. "Sorry, I can't tell if you're mad or not."

Donna shook her head. "I'm not. Is this fun?"

"Well, yeah," the Doctor concluded with a smile, "I mean, some of it gets to be a bit of a bore and sometimes I have no idea what you're on about, but, Donna, I never thought I would have a family again and I have a family again. I would do anything for you and them, even if that means I have to take over the Christmas pageant from Poppy Taylor-Thomas."

Donna shook her head. "You didn't have to take over the Christmas pageant from Poppy Taylor-Thomas."

"Yes, I did."

"No, you didn't." Donna kissed him. "Do you need help?"

"No, I think we've just about got it."

"What is this pageant about?"

"I told you. Christmas, it's all around."

Donna tilted her head. "You aren't going to tell me, are you?"

"You can find out with everyone else."

"I'll see you at home then," said Donna. "Oh, your future self has Chloe and Geoffrey."

"Right..." said the Doctor. "Found out about him, did you?"

"Zara let it slip." Donna gave him another peck on the lips. "See you later."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: I do not own Doctor Who. If I did, this would have aired on Christmas and I would not have to prevent it from becoming a Martin Luther King Day special. Sorry about that. Anyway, thanks for the reads and reviews. Please let me know what you think and happy late Christmas reading!

* * *

It was finally the evening of the pageant. The Doctor and Zara had left quite early to work out all the details. She dressed, got Chloe and Geoffrey ready, then headed over to the school.

Where she was surprised to find basically everyone she knew standing in the school atrium, waiting to go in to the theater.

Sarah Jane was there with Luke. She chatted happily with Martha whose mother was along for some reason. Luckily, Francine was chatting happily with Sylvia. Jack and Ianto were there, chatting with Amy and Rory as he held Melody. Mickey was there, putting finishing touches on a video camera.

"Hello, love," said Wilf, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.

"Um, hi," said Donna. "What's going on?"

"We're here to see the Christmas pageant," said Martha.

"Yes," said Amy, "we heard the Doctor was directing."

"Both of them," added Jack. "You lucky, lucky woman."

"Oh, my God, Jack," said Donna. She looked at Amy and Rory. "You drove from the Midlands?"

"We sort of had to," said Amy. "How often do you get to see a Time Lord Christmas pageant?"

"To be fair, I would have to be here for fulfillment of my godfather duties," said Ianto.

"Oh, yeah, try to make the rest of us look bad," said Jack.

"Hello, Donna."

"Alex!," she exclaimed. He gave her a peck on the cheek. "What are you doing here?"

"You might ask your husbands," said Alex. "It has to do with the surprise ending."

"Surprise ending?," asked Sylvia.

"What surprise ending?," Donna asked with a sudden sense of dread.

Jack sided up to Alex. "I don't know that we've been properly introduced. Captain Jack Harkness."

"He is so not interested, Jack," Donna hissed.

"Donna."

Donna cringed as she heard the voice of Poppy Taylor-Thomas. She slowly turned to face the woman.

"Poppy, hello."

"What exactly has your husband got planned for this evening? I was just backstage and I couldn't make any sense of it. I just saw radio controlled flying fish backstage, a fog machine, a papier-mâché giant spider who claims she's playing the Empress and someone who looks suspiciously like Katherine Jenkins."

"Katherine Jenkins?," asked Amy. "Katherine Jenkins is in a primary school Christmas pageant?"

Poppy scoffed. "Of course it's not Katherine Jenkins. How on Earth would he get Katherine Jenkins?"

The whole of the group tried desperately not to make eye contact with Poppy.

"I know!," said Chloe.

Martha and Amy both lunged at once to clap their hands over Chloe's mouth. Chloe glared as Poppy eyed them suspiciously.

"Well," said Donna, "I'm certain that whatever my husbands-"

"Husbands?," Jack interjected.

"Husband," Donna corrected. "I'm certain that whatever he has planned will be brilliant. Or amazing. Or possibly both and you know what Poppy Taylor-Thomas? You will be kicking yourself because you didn't think of it first."

Poppy narrowed her eyes. "Well, we shall see, won't we?"

"Yes, we shall."

Poppy walked into the auditorium. Donna turned back to the group.

"Look at it this way," said Jack, "if it all goes horribly wrong you can just travel in the TARDIS."

"That's not helping, Jack," said Martha.

"Sorry." He looked to Alex again. "So, do you work out? How much do you bench press?"

* * *

"Chinny!," the Doctor shouted. "Where have you been?!"

"Sorry, I just had to pick up the last member of the cast," said Eleven. He took off his coat revealing a Christmas jumper with blinking fairy lights.

"What are you wearing?"

"Oh, come on, this is just a bit of fun, it's not the worst thing we have ever worn," said Eleven.

The Doctor looked at it again as it reflected against his glasses. "No, I think it might be."

Kate hurried up to the doctors. "Is that Katherine Jenkins?!"

The Doctor turned to Eleven. "Katherine Jenkins?"

"No, it's not," said Eleven.

"Then who is it?," asked the Doctor.

"Okay, it's Katherine Jenkins, but that's only because she looks remarkably like someone," said Eleven.

"How did you persuade her to do it?," asked Kate.

"Oh, well, it was a slow day for her," said Eleven.

"Kate, would you excuse us?," asked the Doctor.

"Right, I had better see to the nativity animals, anyway," said Kate.

Kate hurried off.

"Katherine Jenkins?," he asked.

"She's being very accommodating," said Eleven.

"Any other casting decisions I ought to know about?," asked the Doctor.

Eleven clapped his hands together. "Well, you know how we were having difficulty finding a little girl as good as the one in Love Actually?"

"Yes?," the Doctor asked, slightly afraid.

"I got the little girl from Love Actually."

"Seriously? She must be in her mid-twenties by now-"

"No, I got the little girl from Love Actually. Emphasis on little."

"You used the TARDIS?!," said the Doctor.

"I don't have another time machine. Besides, she thinks it's quite fun."

"Is this what you do now? Kidnap small children?"

Eleven gave it thought. "Not intentionally... usually.

"Present Daddy, Future Daddy."

They looked down to see Zara standing between them.

"I'm resigning."

"What do you mean you're resigning?," asked the Doctor.

"When did you start using the word 'resign'?," asked Eleven. He paused. "Oh, right, just now. Never mind."

"Why are you resigning?"

"I don't want to be in the pageant!," she screeched.

Both Doctors reached to rub their ears.

"Blimey..." said the Doctor.

"Is that what Donna sounded like when she was four?," asked Eleven. "It's terrifying..."

Kate ran up to the Doctor. "John, Craig, we're three minutes from curtain and the Prime Minister's just arrived."

The Doctor looked at Eleven.

Eleven motioned at Zara. "I've got this. For certain reasons, I need David Cameron to be surprised when he finally meets me."

"Right..." The Doctor bent down to kiss Zara on the cheek. "Zara, you are going to be brilliant."

The Doctor rushed off with Kate. Eleven knelt down in front of Zara.

"Now, Zara, why don't you want to be in the Christmas pageant?"

"I'm not a good singer."

"What makes you say that?"

"Chloe said so."

"What? You're going to believe her?"

"And Esther. Dogs don't lie."

"Well, that is true," Eleven admitted. "Dogs are the most truthful creatures in the universe, cats are an entirely different matter. Here's the thing, though, you're four. When you are four, you can get by with anything. You don't have to be good."

Zara frowned. "I'm good at everything."

"No one is good at everything. I can't make a decent souffle. Luckily, I meet someone later to help me with that, among other things. Now, come over here..." Eleven led her over and pulled back the velvet stage curtain. "Now, who do you see?"

Zara looked. It was her mother, her gran held her baby brother, Chloe sat on Rory's lap, Melody sat with Amy as she chatted with Martha, Great Grampy was by Mickey, Jack and Uncle Ianto.

"I know who you see," said Eleven. "You see everyone in the universe who loves you."

Zara looked at the back row. "I see you."

Eleven frowned. "What do you mean? I'm right over here." Eleven turned Zara back towards him. "Zara, I am here because I love you. I will always love you as long as my hearts beat and so will they, whether or not you can sing."

He dropped the curtain.

"Now, what do you say I take you back to join your class so you can open the show with your big song?"

"Future Daddy?"

"Yes, Past Zara?"

"What is the Christmas pageant about?"

"To be perfectly honest, Zara, at this point I have no idea. I might have slightly overextended the scope of the narrative," he said as two of the rocks that first formed the Earth walked by.

"Is Mummy going to be cross?," asked Zara.

"Possibly, but that's all happening later," said Eleven. He took her hand. "Come along, Zara. Geronimo!"

* * *

Donna was having trouble telling if it was her own stomach in knots or the Time Baby inside her.

Why had she brought this upon herself? Why hadn't she just pitched in?

Why did she let a Time Lord direct a Christmas pageant?

Two Time Lords.

Geoffrey played with her earrings from Sylvia's lap, blissfully oblivious to the looming catastrophe.

"Oh, bugger," Donna muttered.

"What?," asked Sylvia.

"I forgot to get a program," said Donna, getting up.

"The show's about to start," Sylvia objected.

"I'm only going to be a moment," said Donna. "It's not like I'm going to Dover for it."

She hurried back up the aisle and stopped when she spotted a familiar face sitting in the back row.

"Mister Frobisher?," asked Donna.

He looked up. "Oh, right. Hello, Donna."

She smiled. "What are you doing here? Have you got a niece or something who goes here?"

"Or something."

Donna narrowed her eyes. "You sound different."

"Do I? Well, that's bound to happen from time to time."

"Yeah. Why do you sound Scottish?"

"As I said. It happens from time to time."

"You just sound Scottish from time to time?," Donna asked skeptically.

Before he could answer, the house lights lowered.

"Oh, I didn't get a program," Donna grumbled as the last parents hurried to their seats and the ushers closed the doors.

"Have mine," said Frobisher.

"Are you sure?," asked Donna.

"Yeah, it'll turn up sooner or later."

Before Donna could question that, Sylvia was hissing at her to return just as the stage lights went up. She hurried back to her seat and held her breath.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes: I do not own Doctor Who (or the song "All I Want for Christmas is You") because if I did this would clearly be the Martin Luther King Day special, thought that's really more of a thing PBS does with Downton Abbey. So sorry about that. Thank you for all your kind reviews and I hope you like this one. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!

* * *

The curtains finally opened as the instrumentals to Slade's "Merry Xmas Everybody" began to play and the reception class appeared in shiny silver costumes.

"Zara!," Geoffrey cried, delightedly pointing at his eldest sister as she stood front and center. "Zara!"

"Hush, sweetheart," Donna whispered.

The children began to sing and it seemed the issue that Zara was not a gifted singer did not matter, as it seemed most of the reception class was aiming for loud.

Midway through, Donna caught sight of both Doctors peering around the curtain at the performance.

"Daddy!," Geoffrey called.

Donna glanced back at the baby. He was looking towards the back of the auditorium.

"Geoffrey, no, Daddy's up there," Donna whispered.

"Who's that man with the Doctor?," Sylvia whispered.

"I don't know," Donna lied.

"Future Daddy," Chloe answered.

"What?"

"You're missing Zara!," Donna cheerfully hissed.

They applauded. The reception classes departed the stage to make way for a little boy and girl and what Donna assumed were two children in the required donkey costume.

"Well, Joseph," said the little girl, meant to be Mary, "I hope I don't have to have the Son of God in the desert!"

There were some snickers in the audience, the rest were confused.

"Don't worry, Mary, there's an inn over here."

Joseph and Mary arrived at a plywood stand that said "INN." There was an innkeeper in a dressing gown and the other child wore mostly black, including a black leather jacket.

"Oh, my God," said Mickey.

Jack cackled.

Donna then realized she had seen that particular look before.

That was when the little boy dressed as the Ninth Doctor delivered some rant about how we all had problems and it wasn't his fault that Mary and Joseph couldn't be bothered to book in advance.

Most of the crowd seemed to think this funny, though Donna did catch the glare of Poppy Taylor-Thomas.

That was fine, right? No one knew it was him.

Except Jack and Mickey.

Donna briefly wondered at how much more autobiographical this pageant was going to get as another class took the stage to sing a more traditional Christmas carol. Her question was answered as a boy appeared in a pinstripe suit and a little ginger girl in a wedding dress.

"Mummy!," Geoffrey shouted.

"Shh," said Sylvia. "That's not your mummy. It's a little girl... in a wedding dress... on Christmas."

Donna desperately avoided her mother's eyes as the two ran across the stage.

"How come you're getting married on Christmas Eve?"

"I hate Christmas! Sunshine! Morocco! Lovely!"

"I'm not following the story in this," Wilf whispered.

"Have you met the Doctor?," asked Rory.

* * *

Backstage, things were only slightly less confusing.

"I've told you two before!," Eleven hissed at the twin boys. "You're Young Kazran! You're Old Kazran! You can't switch now! It's opening night!"

"What sort of a name is Kazran?," asked the twin currently portraying Old Kazran.

"It's your name for the rest of the evening!"

Kate rushed over. "Craig! We're having a spot of bother with the flying fish."

"A spot?," he asked. He glanced up as the radio controlled fish he'd acquired started floating up towards the ceiling. He took out his sonic screwdriver and they quickly moved to a more pleasing pattern.

"Is that a remote control for the fish?," asked Kate.

"Yes, absolutely as long as you have no follow up questions," said Eleven. "Fezzes on, everyone."

* * *

The Year Four class made their appearance with their fezzes singing "The Little Drummer Boy" for the nativity scene. Then the boy in the pinstripes and the girl in the wedding dress had a confrontation with a giant papier-mache spider.

"Mummy!," Geoffrey cried again, shaking Donna's arm and pointing at what he recognized as a frequent bedtime story on stage.

"Shh, yes," Donna whispered.

The play then became some version of A Christmas Carol on an alien planet, which the rest of the audience clearly interpreted as steam punk. There was an old miser, a child playing Frank Sinatra, another one playing Marilyn Monroe. That explained some angry voice mails Donna had gotten.

Then Katherine Jenkins came out and the audience was completely dumbstruck. Donna cast a satisfied look at Poppy Taylor-Thomas who was about ready to spit blood.

At this point, the Christmas pageant was running quite long, including some bit with living Christmas trees who danced around for a bit. Donna had no idea what that was about.

Then the lights on the stage darkened, then came back up...

"Oh, she looks just like the girl from Love Actually," said Martha.

Then Donna had a realization.

"Oh, my God," she whispered.

"I think that actually is the girl from Love Actually," said Rory.

_I don't want a lot for Christmas_

_There is just one thing I need_

_I don't care about the presents_

_Underneath the Christmas tree_

_I just want you for my own_

_More than you could ever know_

_Make my wish come true_

_All I want for Christmas is you, yeah._

_I don't want a lot for Christmas_

_There is just one thing I need_

_And I don't care about the presents_

_Underneath the Christmas tree_

_I don't need to hang my stocking_

_There upon the fireplace_

_Santa Claus won't make me happy_

_With a toy on Christmas Day_

_I just want you for my own_

_More than you could ever know_

_Make my wish come true_

_All I want for Christmas is you_

_You, baby_

_Oh, I won't ask for much this Christmas_

_I won't even wish for snow_

_And I'm just gonna keep on waiting_

_Underneath the mistletoe_

_I won't make a list and send it_

_To the North Pole for Saint Nick_

_I won't even stay awake to_

_Hear those magic reindeer click_

_'Cause I just want you here tonight_

_Holding on to me so tight_

_What more can I do?_

_Baby, all I want for Christmas is you_

_You, baby_

_Oh, all the lights are shining_

_So brightly everywhere_

_And the sound of children's_

_Laughter fills the air_

_And everyone is singing_

_I hear those sleigh bells ringing_

_Santa, won't you bring me the one I really need?_

_Won't you please bring my baby to me?_

_Oh, I don't want a lot for Christmas_

_This is all I'm asking for_

_I just want to see my baby_

_Standing right outside my door_

_Oh, I just want you for my own_

_More than you could ever know_

_Make my wish come true_

_Baby, all I want for Christmas is you_

_You, baby_

_All I want for Christmas is you, baby_

Then David Cameron showed up and waved.

Donna was just glad he wasn't snogging anybody, so she began the applause for the incredibly confused audience. The others quickly joined the spirit, Jack giving a wolf whistle as the rest of the auditorium joined in.

* * *

The halls were buzzing with the performance as the families reunited. Donna sent Wilf and Sylvia home. She was not about to introduce her mother to her future husband or whoever before she absolutely had to. Zara bounded up to them in the hall, but she was not the most eager for a critique.

"So, what did you think?," asked the Doctor.

Eleven and Zara were standing next to him, expectantly waiting for an answer.

Well, what was she going to say, really?

"Well, I thought it was the best Christmas pageant ever," said Donna. She leaned down to Zara. "And you, my darling, were wonderful."

"She was brilliant, wasn't she?," asked the Doctor.

"She was," said Eleven. "Actually, that's the only part of the show I saw. I was too busy backstage."

"Me, too," remarked the Doctor.

Eleven pretended to look at his watch. "I should be off. Past Zara, Past Chloe, a hug for the journey?"

The two girls embraced him on either side.

"Oh, yes, that's the best hug, isn't it?"

"Where are you going, Future Daddy?," asked Chloe.

"Oh, I don't know. You know me. Could be anywhere, any when." He stood back up and took the baby's hand in his. "And you, Past Geoffrey. You have a very happy Christmas." He motioned at Donna's protruding stomach. "Wait until you meet this one."

"Time lines," the Doctor warned.

Eleven kissed Donna on the cheek. "Until we meet again. Bye, sand shoes."

Eleven strode out. Donna put Geoffrey in the Doctor's arms.

"Where are you going?," asked the Doctor.

"I have to ask Chinny a question!," Donna said, rushing off.

The Doctor looked down at Zara and Chloe. "So, tell me if I'm alone in this, but does that man have no eyebrows? I'm just worried because these eyebrows are amazing."

Zara spoke up. "Future Daddy says you have vanity issues."

The Doctor stiffened. "I won't even say what issues he has."

"His hair is floppy," Chloe offered.

"Exactly!," said the Doctor. "Look at this!"

"Mummy says you spend fifteen minutes on it every morning," said Zara. "And then you moisturize."

"Never mind this whole discussion," said the Doctor. He looked to Geoffrey for sympathy. "I suppose you can't get it all with every regeneration. Maybe my eyebrows come back with my twelfth."

* * *

Eleven walked out in the car park as the parents and children departed. He walked towards the spot where he had hidden the TARDIS behind a shed.

"Oi! Time Boy!"

Eleven turned back to see Donna.

"This is the part where I really have to go," said Eleven.

"Where are you going?," asked Donna.

"Sorry?"

"Why aren't you at home?"

Eleven was silent.

"See, I think even if I'm gone, we have children and hopefully they have grandchildren and they should have children, so you ought to be at Christmas with someone and some of them ought to be ginger."

Eleven smiled. "I can't go home." He caught the look on Donna's face. "Don't do that, it's nothing awful. It's for... their protection."

"And where do they think you are?"

"They..."

"Oh, my God! Do not tell me you let your family think you're dead!"

"You don't understand, Donna!"

"Get your floppy hair back in that blue box and go see your family this instant! I don't care if I am dead, I am going to come as a ghost in the night and slap the rest of your eyebrows off! Do you get me?!"

Eleven smiled. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Eleven knocked nervously at the door of the house.

It opened revealing the unimpressed face of a ginger goddess.

"And who exactly did you think you were fooling with that?," she asked.

The Doctor sighed in exhaustion. "You knew the whole time."

"First, you drag me out to Utah. Utah! Then we have to burn your Stetson wearing corpse which was in actuality one of the Tesselecta-"

"How long did that take you?"

"Not very long. Then you missed my birthday-"

"What difference does it make? You always tell people you're forty!"

"Do I look older than forty?"

The Doctor wisely chose to remain silent.

Donna stepped aside.

"Get in before I freeze to death."

"I've really got to get round to seeing that Christmas pageant some day..."

Donna shook her head. "That jumper is horrid."

"It's festive!"

"It's going in a bin when your back is turned."

* * *

The Twelfth Doctor walked back in the TARDIS.

"You are such a sentimental fool."

The Doctor looked up at Donna's piercing eyes.

"That wasn't sentiment, I had never seen it before," he said.

Donna shot him a look.

"It's not my fault. I wasn't so sentimental my first nine hundred years, it must be spending too much time with humans."

"Says the thousands years old man whose cot is in the dining room."

"I am not thousands-"

"You have no idea, Martian."

"And I am not from Mars."

"You keep saying that, still haven't seen your home planet."

"Because I haven't found it yet!"

"Whatever, spaceman." Donna walked back in the TARDIS, then back to the console room. "Doctor, did you ever take the little girl from Love Actually home?"


End file.
